This Is Letting Go
by twenty3
Summary: Oneshot. McKean wants a chance to talk to Nick in exchange for names of other dirty cops. Everyone, including Grissom, has something to say on the matter, but the only thing that matters is what is said between Nick and the man who killed his best friend.


This is just a little something I've been messing around with for a bit. It's how I would have brought closure to the whole McKean killing Warrick thing. Arresting him wasn't enough for me, so this is what I would have done.

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own CSI or the characters.

Warning: Spoilers through season 11 and for language.

* * *

The Las Vegas crime lab's graveyard shift team bounced glances off one another as they sat in the conference room, waiting for the purpose of this meeting to be explained to them. Gil Grissom, the former supervisor of the team, was sitting at the head of the table with Brass standing behind him, his arms crossed over his chest. His surprise return visit from Paris to Las Vegas was short lived when the team members saw the shadows in his eyes that told them his visit wasn't strictly for pleasure. They had all hugged and exchanged pleasantries, but now they were all sitting around the long glass table, waiting for someone to say something.

Catherine sat at the other end of the table with Nick to her left and Greg to her right. Ray filled the spot to Nick's left and Sara was at the last spot of the table closest to Grissom. Even she didn't know why her husband had returned out of the clear blue sky, and the worried expression on her face matched that of everyone else.

Conrad Ecklie walked into the conference room and upon doing received a forced smile from Grissom, as well as the rest of the occupants of the room. He sat in the chair across from Sara and cleared his throat before addressing the police captain and CSIs, present and former.

"The reason we called you all here is to inform you of a recent situation. Former under sheriff Jeffrey McKean has reached out to myself and Brass with an offer, and while it affects one of you more than the others, you're all apart of this," Ecklie said. As he spoke he looked around the table at everyone, but when his eyes landed on Nick, they didn't move away from him.

Grissom took the reins from there. "I'm back both because Ecklie and Brass asked me to, and because I've missed you guys. It was time for a visit anyway, and it just so happened to coincide with McKean's...offer, I guess is what we're calling it."

"What does this offer involve?" Catherine asked, skepticism in her voice and plastered on her face.

"As Warrick had suspected and all of us agreed, McKean's corruption ran further through the police force than we had thought. We just never figured it all out, and with the death of Lou Gedda the corruption basically fizzled itself out," Brass explained. "But McKean knows who else was involved and to what extent. He knows who is still involved and has agreed to tell us everything we need and want to know."

"In exchange for what?" Nick asked, knowing full well that he wasn't going to like the answer to his question.

Grissom smiled slightly. "He wants to talk to you."

Nick frowned. "To me? Why?"

"He's a psychopath," Brass answered. "You're the one that found him in the woods and held the gun on him. He wanted you to kill him and I guess he wants to talk to you and figure out why you didn't do it. He won't say why he wants to talk to you, just that if he gets a half hour of your time that he'll tell us what we want to know."

"The catch is he wants to talk to you in private," Grissom added. "Nobody else in the room, no microphones, no tape recorders."

"Fuck him," Catherine replied. "Excuse my language, but that jackass doesn't deserve one second alone with anyone, especially not Nick. He doesn't want to talk to him, he wants to torture him. And do you really believe he's going to tell us anything? He'll just torment Nick and then laugh in our faces for believing that he would ever help us," she said, directing her anger towards Ecklie.

"There's no guarantee he would tell us anything," Ecklie agreed. "But the possibility is what makes it worthwhile."

"Worthwhile for you, not Nick," Greg said. "You're not the one that has to go in a room with the guy that murdered your best friend and listen to him taunt you about it just to get a couple names."

"It's more than couple names," Brass responded. "They're the names of corrupt policemen who helped cause Warrick's death. It's the names of men who deserve to be in jail for what they've done."

Before Greg or anyone else could argue, Grissom chimed in. "He's right. These men are just as guilty as McKean is and it's our-your job to stop men like them."

A moment of silence fell upon the room and it felt like it was going to go on forever until Ray broke it. "I didn't know Warrick, or McKean, and I'd understand if any of you who did would want me to leave the room now. This doesn't pertain to me and I wouldn't be offended if anyone wanted me to sit this one out."

"You're staying," Nick replied before anyone else could voice an opinion, and that was the end of that discussion because everyone else agreed anyway.

"Nick," Grissom said, getting his former CSI's attention. "This is up to you pal. Nobody can make you do this. Just know that you'll be safe. He obviously won't be armed, and neither will you so he'll have no chance to hurt you. We'll be watching on a monitor, and even though we won't be able to hear anything we can still see if you're uncomfortable or if he tries anything. You can simply get up and leave when you've had enough."

"This isn't fair to put him in this situation," Catherine said. "How can you ask anyone to do something like this? McKean murdered Warrick, and you want Nick to go have a little chat with him like they're old friends?"

Nick shook his head slowly, and nobody spoke in anticipation for what he was going to say. "I'm gonna do it," he said defiantly. "He can torment me in whatever way he wants. We need those names to put those guys in jail." Catherine opened her mouth to protest, but Nick cut her off. "Warrick would do it. He would do it for me, he'd do it for you, he'd do it for any one of us."

"How do you know he even has those names? And if he does, what makes you think he's going to give them to us?" Catherine asked. "Talking to McKean isn't going to change anything. It isn't going to bring Warrick back."

"Not talking to him isn't going to do anything either," Nick replied. "If I talk to him and he doesn't give us anything, then we're in the same position we're in right now. If I go talk to him, there's a chance he'll tell us what we want to know."

Greg shook his head. "I don't think it's a good idea," he said, taking Catherine' side. "It's not like you're going to sit down and he's going to tell you whatever you want then you get to leave. He wants to get a rise out of you and won't be satisfied until you lose control."

"I had a gun on him, with no one else around, as he was taunting me with the fact that he had killed Warrick. He repeatedly asked me to kill him because a real friend would have done it. I didn't lose control then," Nick said.

Brass sighed. "You almost did. You shot the ground next to him. But that's not the point. The point is this is worth taking the chance if Nick's willing to do it, and he is."

"Because he didn't think it through and doesn't understand the emotional terrorism McKean is planning to inflict on him," Catherine protested.

Nick locked eyes with Catherine and smiled slightly. "I'll be fine. Worst comes to worst, he says something to piss me off and I punch him in the face. And if we're being honest, that's a pretty decent worst case scenario."

* * *

Nick stood at the two-way mirror on the side that allowed him to look into the interrogation room and see McKean sitting at the table, his hands folded in front of him with a small smile on his face. His orange prison scrubs suited the murderer well. Nick looked at him as his friends stood behind him, watching the dark haired Texan closely.

"He can't hurt you if you don't let him Nicky," Catherine said softly, to which Nick nodded.

"You're not alone in there," Grissom added. "We're all right here, and Warrick's with you too. As always."

Nick turned around and smiled at his friends before taking a deep breath and leaving the room to enter the one across the glass. He walked over and sat at the table without breaking stride or looking at McKean.

"Archie rigged the room to record what's being said without McKean noticing," Greg reported. "We can't hear it now, but we'll be able to listen to it later."

"If Nick wants us to," Grissom said, and Greg nodded in understanding.

They all turned their attention to the two men on the other side of the wall and watched intently despite not being able to hear anything.

McKean smiled widely as Nick sat down. "Hello Stokes," he said cheerfully. "How have you been?"

"Better than you," Nick replied.

"Oh I doubt that highly."

Nick rolled his eyes. "You're in jail. Don't pretend you love it in there. Let's just cut to the chase, okay? What do you want from me?"

McKean leaned forward and twiddled his thumbs. "What, no small talk? You weren't very chatty that day in the woods either. You just stood there and let me do all the talking. How did that feel?"

"Is that why I'm here? Because you want to know how I felt when I was holding you, my best friend's murderer, at gun point?" McKean nodded. "It felt like there was a vice grip on my heart, trying to rip it out of my chest. It felt like I had nothing to lose and that I should have pulled the trigger and put you out of your misery."

"Why didn't you?" McKean asked. "Why did you let me live?"

"Because you didn't deserve to get off that easy."

McKean scoffed and shook his head. "I don't buy that, not for one second. You wanted to kill me."

"If I had wanted to kill you, you would be dead."

"I disagree. You wanted to kill me, but couldn't. You didn't have the guts to go that extra step, that extra inch and get the job done. You were too scared, too afraid of ruining your reputation. You didn't want to be known as a murderer."

"You say that like there's something wrong with not wanting to be a murderer," Nick said. "That's the difference between you and me. You're the coward that went that extra inch to kill someone you were afraid of. You were scared Warrick was going to bring you down, and he would have. You knew it, that's why you killed him. Because you're a coward who couldn't face the fact that you were going to get caught."

"I'm the coward? You're the one that couldn't avenge his best friend's death."

"Killing you wouldn't have brought Warrick back," Nick replied. "It would have only let you off the easy way. I don't regret my choice."

McKean smiled. "Neither do I."

Nick sighed heavily. "Why am I here? What do you really want? To torture me with the fact that you killed my best friend? I already know that, everyone already knows that. You're just wasting my time."

"I wanted to see you," McKean replied. "I wanted to see what a mess you've become, but I was wrong about you. You've held it together quite nicely, which is pretty disappointing I might add. Nonetheless, I wanted to talk to you because you're different than anyone else I've ever met. A lot of people would have pulled that trigger, but you didn't. And I have a feeling there's something you want to ask me."

McKean's last statement surprised Nick. How did he know that there was something on Nick's mind about the night Warrick had died that had been plaguing him ever since?

"Go ahead," McKean replied. "Ask."

Nick remained silent for several more moments before he could finally formulate the question that had been bothering him for the last 3 years.

"If I had left the diner with Warrick the night you killed him...if I had gone to his car with him and went with him to his house like I should have, would you have killed me too?"

McKean's smile widened as he shook his head. "No. I would have let you both go, and who knows, he would probably still be alive. I wouldn't have gotten another chance to kill him before you guys figured out I was involved, so you leaving with him that night would have saved his life."

All of the air in Nick's lungs disappeared as his head fell forward in his hands. He closed his eyes against the stinging of the oncoming tears. The team on the other side of the glass noticed this sudden change in Nick's demeanor, and the sight of it made Catherine's breath hitch in her throat. She counted the seconds that ticked by without Nick or McKean saying anything and had only gotten to ten before McKean spoke again and she was able to release the pressure in her lungs.

Nick looked up when he heard McKean start to laugh. "Oh man, I wish that were true. No, no, no. Truth be told, if you had walked into the alley that night and had gotten into that car with Warrick, I would have had no problem putting a bullet in you. Hell, I would have loved to shoot you too, just as an added bonus. As much as I'd love to torture you with the thought that you could have saved Warrick's life, nothing would have made me happier than killing you that night."

"Why?" Nick asked, his voice soft and weak.

"I've never liked you. Since that case where your car with all of the evidence got stolen, and the fact that you slept with a hooker who you were later accused of murdering really-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Nick asked, cutting McKean off. "You're acting as a judge of character right now? _You_?"

McKean laughed and nodded. "That's how you know how messed up you are Stokes, when a murderer doesn't think you're a good person."

"I don't care what you think. You killed my best friend. Your opinion is the last thing I care about at this point."

"Then what do you care about?" McKean asked. "Because you clearly didn't care about Warrick because you let me live."

"Is that what you want to hear? Is that why I'm here? Okay, fine. I don't care about Warrick, I'm glad he's dead. I'm secretly so happy you killed him, that's why I let you live. Because he was spiraling out of control and I was terrified and didn't know how to help him, but then you killed him and it didn't matter anymore. So thank you. Thank you for killing my best friend and making my life completely fucking normal again," Nick replied, anger filling his voice.

McKean frowned. "There's no need for sarcasm Stokes."

Nick shook his head slowly. "You killed my best friend. You took someone away from me, from our team, and you couldn't care less. You baited me here with the promise of giving up other dirty cops, but honestly, I never believed you would."

"Why not?"

Nick scoffed. "Because you're a coward. I've seen more spine in jellyfish and more guts in my eleven-year-old nephew than I see in you. You're continuing to torture me because you have nothing else to do, nothing else to show for the life you lived before you got put in jail. So go ahead, keep it up all you want. Re-live that night over and over again as many times as you have to in order to remind yourself that you weren't always in jail and that you used to be alive. I really couldn't care less."

"Do you think you're tough? Do you think you're intimidating me right now?"

"No," Nick replied coolly.

"You're no fucking hero. You're a CSI, nobody even knows you exist. Nobody would give a shit if I had killed you with Warrick that night. They would have put on a show in the community for a few days like they did with Warrick, put your name on a plaque and then that would be it. You'd be forgotten because you don't mean anything to anyone."

Nick leaned forward. "Are we talking about me here, or you?" he asked.

"I'm talking about you," McKean said, pointing a finger at Nick. "I knew immediately that night that you got kidnapped and buried alive that you were too much of a hassle. I prayed that you were going to suffocate or kill yourself before anyone found you. You're more valuable dead than you are alive."

"Too bad you can't hate someone to death," Nick said. "But, I guess if that were possible, you would have been dead a long time ago, probably before I would have even met you."

"Do your stupid fucking sarcastic comments make you feel important? Do you feel like you matter by being able to come up with snappy comebacks?"

"No," Nick replied, shaking his head. "I feel important when I put murderers, like yourself, in jail. I feel like I matter when I come to work and see my team, my friends, and we get through another hellish day together because we're _together_, and not even you can take that away from us. You can't take that away from me."

McKean scoffed. "I already did. I took Warrick away from you."

Nick shook his head again. "No you didn't."

McKean slammed his fists down on the metal table as his anger and frustration finally took over. "Yes I did! I killed him! You said so yourself, I took him away from you!"

Nick stood from his seat. "No, you didn't."

He turned and started walking towards the door, having no interest in continuing his conversation with McKean. His hand had reached out and landed on the handle of the door when McKean spoke, stopping him from exiting the room and his life altogether.

"It's your fault he's dead. You didn't do enough to help him, and it resulted in his death. You're the reason he got out of control, the reason why it went as far as it did. You could have prevented it if you had tried harder. But you didn't. It's your fault as much as it is mine."

"I know," Nick replied, much to McKean's surprise. "But the difference between you and me is you pulled the trigger because you couldn't handle knowing what Warrick was capable of doing to you. You couldn't face the consequences of your actions, and you took the easy way out and killed him. I could have done more to help him, but I didn't do anything to hurt him. I loved him, I still love him. You didn't change that fact, you never can. You can't change something you don't understand."

And with that, Nick left the interrogation room and was out of sight by the time Catherine and the others had made it out of the observation room into the hallway to intercept him. Wherever he had went, he went in a hurry and the team took that as a sign to leave him alone for the time being.

* * *

Surprisingly enough, the team found Nick in the last place they would have ever thought to look for him. They had all gone into the break room to get some coffee before their next shift started and to catch up with Grissom. But when they walked into the room their plans immediately changed due to the fact that Nick was sitting at the break room table, staring down at his hands that were resting on the glass in front of him. They all silently took their seats around the table, carefully watching Nick and waiting for him to speak. They didn't want to start hammering away with questions, but they also wanted to know what had happened in that interrogation room.

Catherine gently put her hand on Nick's. "Nicky, are you okay?"

Nick shook his head slowly. "I shouldn't have talked to him," he whispered, more to himself than to his friends.

"He lied about having information," Brass said with a sigh. "I'm sorry Nick."

"It's not your fault. I should have known better."

"It's not about that Nick," Ray offered. "What you did was incredibly brace and extremely selfless, as is usually the case with your actions. You once again put yourself out there for the benefit of others when you fully knew that you could get hurt."

"You did the right thing," Grissom agreed. "Warrick would have been proud of you."

Nick sighed. "Nothing got accomplished."

Sara smiled softly. "Well then, it's like you said. We're exactly in the same position we were in before you went in there to talk to him."

"No harm done," Greg added.

Nick shook his head as he continued to stare down at his hands. "He really fucked with my head. I asked him what he would have done if I had left with Warrick that night. I asked him if he would have killed me if I had left the diner and gone with Warrick to his car the night that he died."

Catherine realized that this was the exchange that had caused Nick to drop his head when he was talking to McKean, which had caused her to panic that something was wrong. Now she knew she had been right. "What did he say?" she asked.

"He said that he would have let us go. He said that if I had gone out there with Warrick, he wouldn't have done anything. And Warrick would still be alive because he wouldn't have gotten another chance to kill him after that night before we figured out he was involved." Nick laughed humorlessly. "But then, ten seconds later, he laughed and told me that even though he wants to torment me with the thought that I could have saved Warrick, that honestly nothing would have made him happier than killing me that night."

"Nick, it wouldn't have really changed anything," Catherine said.

"I know that, but for those ten seconds, I could have saved Warrick's life. For ten seconds I believed that something could have been done to prevent his death. Those were the worst ten seconds of my life."

"I know exactly what you're thinking," Grissom said, making Nick look up for the first time since anyone had walked into the break room. "I know you're wishing you had gone out with him that night because there's still a part of you that believes you would have scared McKean off. But believe me when I say that that son of a bitch would have killed you too. He was pushed to the edge and he didn't care anymore. He would have killed you, and we all would have lost two of the most important people in our lives that night."

Nick opened his mouth to reply, but Grissom continued, silencing the younger man. "And I know what else you're thinking. That if that's the case, you wish that you had gone out with Warrick that night so that McKean would have killed you, so that you wouldn't have to live with this guilt. I know you think that that would have been the better outcome, but you've never been more wrong about anything in your entire life."

Nick shook his head slowly. "I don't want to die, I just-"

"You don't know what else to do," Grissom said, finishing Nick's sentence for him.

Nick nodded. "Yeah. I know that doesn't even make sense. I can't help it. I just feel so much like giving up. After losing Warrick, and then Clarke and the Jason McCann bullshit...I wish I could walk away from all of it. But I can't."

"You're damn right you can't," Catherine said. "I need you to stay here Nicky, we all need you to stay here. Not just at CSI, but _here_ in general, as in alive."

Nick smiled weakly. "I know, I would never leave you guys on purpose. I just shouldn't have talked to McKean, he got my head all fucked up."

"You were pretty fucked up to begin with," Greg joked, making Nick and everyone else laugh. "Hell, we all are, that's why we get along so well."

Nick nodded in agreement. Silence settled over the room for a few moments before anyone spoke again. Nick was the one who broke it. "I kinda wish I killed him," he said softly. Before Catherine, Grissom, or Brass could argue, he added "I know it wouldn't have brought Warrick back and I almost definitely would have gone to jail for it, but I don't think I would have cared. I know it wouldn't have changed what happened, but McKean doesn't deserve to be alive and thinking that he won."

"He didn't win," Grissom said. "So it doesn't matter what he thinks. The only way he would have won is if you had killed him. Because then he wouldn't have to rot in jail, he would have gotten off easy. That's why he wanted you to kill him, it would have been the easy way out. But you didn't, and he didn't get what he wanted, so he doesn't win."

Nick shook his head slowly. "Nobody won then."

"It's not about who won and who lost," Grissom replied, speaking to the whole team and not just Nick in particular. "This job wouldn't have the meaning it does if all it was about was the good guys winning and the bad guys losing. We all lost because we lost someone, but that doesn't mean McKean won. He can only win if we let him, and we didn't."

Nick sighed. "I still kinda wished I had killed him," he said with a small smile, making everyone around laugh slightly. "But this isn't giving up, this is letting go. Once upon a time, I could take anything. When that changed, I thought it was a bad thing, but now I know it's not."

"Why?" Catherine asked.

Nick shook his head. "I don't know why, I just know. It was going to have to get worse before it ever got better, and even though getting worse meant losing Warrick, it's getting better. Sometimes it doesn't feel that way, but it's true. Hell isn't where we're going, hell is where we've been."


End file.
